One to Chase (One to Hold 7)

“He’s a smart guy. Women love artists.” Evan pushes through the double glass doors, his mouth lined as he watches me making small talk. I know he’s right. We’ve got to finish planning. “Hey, I’m sorry, sis. I’ve really got to go.”

She exhales a laugh. “And now you know why I never wanted to be a lawyer. Careful you don’t wake up and find your life has passed you by.”

Shaking my head, I head for the elevator. “You would have made a fantastic lawyer, and I love my job.” End of discussion.

“Thanks for helping out.”

“I look forward to meeting you new little sister-in-law.”

“Oh! Don’t call her that. She’s very independent.”

“I will not call her your little sister-in-law. What do I call her?”

“I think she goes by Amalie now.”

“Fancy. Have her touch base with Janice.”

She sings out another thank you, and it’s the last thing I hear before disconnecting.

* * *

Amy

Pulling the coffee pod from the box, I drop it into the machine before sliding my mug in place and hitting the button.

“I don’t need Elaine’s older brother doing favors for me,” I grumble. The very idea makes me want to hurl. “I used to live here, remember?”

Sylvia (my mother) joins me in the kitchen already immaculately dressed in dark, form-fitted jeans and an oversized, white button-up blouse. Light-brown hair streaked with silver is clutched at the back of her neck, and her signature double-strand of chunky pearls peeks out of her open collar.

“I know, but pretend you do.” She smiles revealing straight white teeth. “Elaine wants to bond with you as a sister.”

“Sylvia,” I exhale loudly.

“Amalie,” she teases, using my full name. “Hold your own in a different battle.”

“You missed your calling, dear,” I kiss her head before sitting across from her at the small table. “You should’ve been an ambassador.”

“To France? I would have loved it, but your father hated the French.”

“Right.” I fight my visceral response to the mention of my late father, the anger burning deep in my stomach at the thought of how much she sacrificed for that man.

Her blue eyes twinkle with her laugh, and I push the past down and away.

For her. Always for her.

My mother is the wisest, most diplomatic person I’ve ever met. She had to be, living with that man as long as she did. It’s a path I will never follow. Women don’t need men, and I will not be held hostage the way my gorgeous mother was for years, her dreams and desires taking a backseat to his.

Stirring cream into my coffee, I take a long sip of the soothing hot liquid. We’re well into spring, but I still enjoy the warm embrace of a good cup of coffee in the morning. “Who is Elaine’s ridiculous older brother anyway?”

“Not so ridiculous, from what I understand.” She flips through a paperback on the table. “He’s quite impressive. He’s the attorney who helped get Derek out of that murder charge.”

My eyebrows go up, but I only concede a Hmm.

She proceeds to have a mini-rant. “As if Derek Alexander could ever be accused of such a crime. It’s a sure sign our legal system is broken when a man of his character and reputation is—”

“Mom,” I gently interrupt her. You’d think Derek Alexander was her own son the way she goes on about him. “What’s this impressive attorney’s name?”

Shaking her head, her agitation dissolves. “I can’t remember. Edward, I think? I only met him briefly at the wedding.”